Edward VII

by Catharine Arnold

  Alice also accompanied Bertie to his favorite restaurants, under constant surveillance from his detectives. This was before the days of the Royal Protection Squad, a crack group of police officers specifically detailed to take care of the royals. Instead, Bertie was always accompanied by his royal equerry and a detective, to keep him under surveillance at all times. Alice was always concerned about Bertie’s security. It made her nervous that, as they strolled arm in arm along the boulevards of Paris, Bertie would not hesitate to stop and take the time of day with anyone who approached him. Nervously, Alice hovered close by, and could not wait to get him back to the safety of his suite at the Hotel Bristol. Alice’s fears were not without foundation. On April 4, 1900, Bertie and Princess Alix arrived in Brussels en route to Copenhagen. Their train was just beginning to pull out of the Gard du Nord station when a man fired a pistol at Bertie through their open carriage window. Bertie remained unruffled, commenting merely that his would-be assassin was a poor fool. The gunman, a Belgian youth named Jean-Baptiste Sipido, was protesting against the Boer War.16 Bertie telegrammed Alice to say, “I don’t think there was a bullet in it. He was at once seized.”17

  Bertie’s security remained Alice’s primary concern. On one occasion, they were lunching in a restaurant at Saint-Cloud. Tables had been spread outside in the garden, under the trees. Bertie, Alice, a secretary from the British Embassy, and a handful of French aristocrats were seated at a table in a prominent position. As the lunch progressed, Alice became increasingly worried about a man at a table nearby who had, she claimed, a “criminal face.”18 As she glanced around, Alice noted that the garden was a real security risk: there were gaps in the wall through which an assailant, or even a group of assailants, might launch themselves. Sir Frederick Ponsonby, Bertie’s private secretary, reassured Alice, telling her that Bertie had plenty of police protection nearby. But Alice continued to worry, and insisted on speaking to the chief of police, Monsieur Lepine, asking him to check the police presence. With a broad smile, Monsieur Lepine confirmed that all the diners at the nearby tables were in fact police officers and their wives—including the individual with the “criminal face!”19

  Alice’s role of chief mistress also included a diplomatic function, with Alice acting as informal liaison officer. Rather than have elaborate meetings to discuss policy and diplomatic issues where he received his ministers in a royal audience, Bertie preferred to turn these encounters into social occasions. Here he could rely on his close friends and advisers such as Admiral Lord Fisher, Sir Charles Harding, Sir Ernest Cassel, Sir Francis Knollys, and Ponsonby—alongside Alice Keppel. “Alice evolved as the perfect amateur diplomat for the king; her circumspection and discretion came naturally to her and she was completely loyal to the king … she was a consummate liaison officer.”20

  Skilled at keeping the conversation flowing while Bertie took in information by listening rather than reading reports, Alice kept the talk flowing so that Bertie could pick up the intelligence he needed. Royal biographer Raymond Lamont-Brown gives us one particular example. In 1907, Kaiser William II visited Highcliffe Castle, home of Major-General Edward Stuart-Wortley. Bertie did not attend this dinner, but Alice came over for dinner from Crichel Down with a party after the kaiser had enjoyed a day’s shooting. Alice was placed next to the kaiser at dinner, despite the fact that he had publicly denounced Bertie’s relationship with Alice, or “Favorita” as he referred to her. Alice was, of course, more than capable of rising to the challenge and attempted to defuse the situation rather than creating the tense atmosphere that might have been expected. The Austro-Hungarian diplomat Count Albert von Mensdorff Pouilly-Dietrichstein later wrote in his journal: “It was amusing to see how, at table, in disregard of all rules of precedence, the Favorita was seated next to the Kaiser, so she might have the opportunity of talking to him. I would like to know what sort of report she sent back to Sandringham.”21

  Lord Hardinge of Penshurst, permanent undersecretary at the Foreign Office, had a high opinion of Alice’s tact, loyalty, and discretion:22

  I would like here to pay a tribute to her wonderful discretion, and to the excellent influence which she always exercised upon the King. She never utilised her knowledge to her own advantage, or that of her friends; and I never heard her repeat an unkind word of anybody. There were one or two occasions when the King was in disagreement with the Foreign Office and I was able, through her, to advise the King with a view to the policy of the Government being accepted. She was very loyal to the King and patriotic at the same time. It would have been difficult to find any other lady who would have filled the part of friend to King Edward with the same loyalty and discretion.23

  If Bertie had adopted a “sofa-style” form of government, Alice’s advice and support were indispensable for its smooth running. The supreme example of Alice’s ability to drop a word or two in Bertie’s ear when it mattered was the potential crisis of 1908 when Henry Campbell-Bannerman resigned as prime minister on health grounds and Herbert Asquith was elected as his replacement. Bertie and Alice were on their annual jaunt in Biarritz when the news was announced. Constitutionally, Bertie was required in London to swear in the new premier and attend a Privy Council meeting. But Bertie, who had no intention of breaking off his vacation with Alice, point-blank refused to return. This resulted in a predictable outcry in the press before Alice defused the situation with the skill of a born spin doctor by suggesting that Asquith travel out to Biarritz instead. Asquith arrived in Biarritz on May 7, 1908, and went straight to the Hôtel du Palais, where Alice was waiting for him. She must have briefed Asquith well, for his appointment was confirmed with the minimum of fuss: “I presented [the King] with a written resignation of the office of Chancellor of the Exchequer; and then he said, ‘I appoint you Prime Minister and First Lord of the Treasury,’ whereupon I knelt down and kissed his hand. Voila tout!”24 Then Bertie invited Asquith to breakfast and they spent the next hour running through the details of the new cabinet.

  The following day, Asquith thanked Alice for her support. “I must send you a line of most sincere thanks for your kind words and wise counsels, which I shall treasure and (I hope) profit by.”25

  As well as being constantly anxious over Bertie’s security, and keeping a weather eye out for assassins, Alice worried about Bertie’s health. This was not without foundation. By the age of sixty, Bertie was morbidly obese. At five feet six inches in height, he was not tall, but weighed over 225 pounds with a waist measurement of forty-six inches. Always a keen trencherman, Bertie had become a compulsive eater, and Princess Alix was horrified by his voracious appetite. Even Alice Keppel was powerless when it came to suggesting that Bertie limit his food intake. And, although never a drunk, Bertie had started to drink heavily during the day, tippling champagne, Chablis, claret, and brandy alongside a succession of heavy meals.26

  A heavy smoker, Bertie suffered from bronchitis and emphysema, the result of a lifetime’s chain-smoking Royal Derbies, Laurens, and Dembergi’s Egyptian cigarettes and Henry Clay Tsars and Corona y Coronas cigars.27 Recurrent coughing fits were treated with a throat spray to soothe symptoms that Bertie, and his family, secretly suspected were those of cancer. In keeping with the fashion of the time, Bertie traveled to Marienbad every year for the “cure.” This was the nineteenth-century equivalent of a spa break, an austere regime of diet, exercise, and drinking and bathing in the waters that were believed to have curative powers. For the more stubborn cases, there were enemas and a mild form of electric shock treatment, which was recommended for impotence. Alice never accompanied Bertie to Marienbad. While Biarritz was “safe,” a town where the couple were unlikely to run into major royalty, Marienbad was popular with the key players of the European royal families and Alice’s presence would be an embarrassment.

  But even trips to Marienbad were not sufficient to tackle Bertie’s dreadful combination of obesity, chronic ill health, and lack of exercise, exacerbated by a knee injury sustained when Bertie fell downstairs
at Baron Rothschild’s house, Waddesdon Manor in Buckinghamshire. According to Brookie, Daisy Warwick’s husband, it appeared that Bertie had slipped on the spiral staircase. Brookie hurried inside, and “found the Prince where the butler had left him, sitting on a step of the main circular staircase. He smiled reassuringly at me, although I could see at a glance that he must be in great pain, and said: ‘I fear I have broken something in my leg; my foot slipped, and as I fell I heard a bone crack.’ Two servants came up at that moment bearing a long invalid chair, and fearing from what the Prince had said that he had split or broken his knee-cap, I tied his leg straight out onto one of the parallel carrying poles. Then the local doctor arrived, and the Prince was allowed to sit on a sofa with his leg down, to have his breakfast before leaving. I have always thought that but for the severe strain involved by his straightened leg the subsequent illness would not have been so long or so difficult—but I will not blame the doctor. The Prince was ever the kindliest of men, and his great anxiety was to reassure Baron Ferdinand, who was too grieved to think he should have met with a serious accident under his roof.”28

  To make matters worse, the chair broke as Bertie was being carried to his train, and he was unceremoniously dropped on the passenger bridge. Bertie’s knee never recovered from this incident. Alice Keppel was particularly concerned about the knee, and wrote to Bertie’s close friend, Portuguese diplomat the Marques de Soveral, urging him to get medical attention. Bertie “writes that it is very painful and stiff and that massage does it no good or rather harm as there is a slight ‘effusion’ on it. This I know ought to be seen at once, for if he gets water on the knee this might mean a stiff knee for life … do try what you can with your famous tact and, of course, don’t tell anyone I wrote to you.…”29

  In 1901, as Queen Victoria lay on her deathbed, Bertie was preparing to leave for Osborne to be with the dying queen. Alix was away in Sandringham, and Alice at home with the Hon. George. On Queen Victoria’s last night on earth, it seems that the only person Bertie wanted to see was Agnes Keyser. Bertie dined alone with Agnes at 17 Grosvenor Crescent, and sat by the fire telling her that he felt unworthy to succeed the queen; then he left at dawn, taking a special train to the Isle of Wight.30

  Queen Victoria finally passed away at 6:30 P.M. on January 22, 1901, “surrounded by her children and grandchildren,”31 and Bertie, at long last, became king. Court rumors circulated that, as soon as the queen was dead, Alix knelt and kissed her husband’s hand and addressed him as “Sire!”32 But Bertie, overwhelmed with loss, could only say: “It has come too late.”33 Alice Keppel was at home with her husband when she heard the news. They were not invited to the funeral.

  Following Bertie’s accession to the throne, there was consternation among his lady friends that they might be dropped, just as Prince Hal had dropped Falstaff when he became Henry V. “When he succeeded to the throne he wrote to diverse of these ladies to say that though called to the other serious duties he hoped still to see them from time to time.”34 One apparent victim of Bertie’s accession was the actress Réjane, who had been Bertie’s mistress briefly in the early ’90s. In Denmark, some weeks after his succession, Bertie had walked right past her without acknowledging her. But the following day, Réjane received a diamond clip with a note that read: “With apologies from the King of England who is no longer the Prince of Wales.”35

  Alice Keppel, as Bertie’s mistress in chief, had most to fear at this time, and became the object of snide comments from the young Winston Churchill. Writing to his mother, Jennie, and speculating as to her role in the new administration, Churchill made some disparaging comments about Bertie’s future court and sneeringly inquired whether “the Keppel” would be appointed 1st Lady of the Bedchamber.36 The Keppel retained her position and would be one of the most conspicuous guests at the coronation.

  The coronation of King Edward VII had been scheduled for June 26, 1902. Bertie, although happy, was unwell. He had attended the spring race meetings, particularly enjoying the Coronation Derby at Epsom, but the weather was cold and wet, and Bertie caught a chill. Despite this, Bertie refused any requests to rest and attended a huge luncheon party for the diplomats visiting London for the coronation, and then went on to the coronation rehearsal at Westminster Abbey. At this point, Bertie was suddenly struck down with intense abdominal pain and an alarmingly distended belly. Bertie’s physicians, suspecting appendicitis, knew that Bertie required an operation immediately. Sir Frederick Treves, his surgeon, examined the king and found a hard swelling in his abdomen. Treves informed the royal physicians, Francis Laking and Sir Thomas Barlow, that the king was in grave danger. When Bertie asked what would happen if he refused the operation, he was told in no uncertain terms that he would die. Bertie refused to cancel the coronation, saying: “I will go to the Abbey, even if it kills me.”37 Laking sternly replied that if the king insisted on going to the Abbey, it would kill him. Eventually, he was persuaded that to refuse the operation really would be letting his subjects down. The coronation was canceled and the gala dinner for five hundred, prepared by the celebrity chef César Ritz, had to be distributed among the London poor, who feasted on jellied strawberries and snipe stuffed with pâté de foie gras. Monsieur Ritz, when he learned of this, collapsed with a seizure.38

  As wild rumors and speculation circulated that the king was dying of cancer and would not live to see his own coronation, a bulletin, signed by Bertie’s doctors, was duly posted on the railings of Buckingham Palace: “The King is undergoing a surgical operation. The King is suffering from perityphilitis. His condition on Saturday was so satisfactory that it was hoped that with care His Majesty would be able to go through the Coronation ceremony. On Monday evening a recrudescence became manifest, rendering a surgical operation today.”39

  Rather to the dismay of Treves, Alix insisted on remaining at her husband’s side for the operation. Given her interest in nursing, this was perhaps understandable, but as a laywoman she was clearly unprepared for the grisly reality of surgery. “Indeed, she helped to hold [Bertie] struggling during the administration of chloroform.”40 Treves later wrote: “I was anxious to prepare for the operation but did not like to take off my coat, tuck up my sleeves, and put on an apron whilst the Queen was present.”41 When Treves asked Alix to leave, she released her hold on the unconscious Bertie and quietly walked out.

  Treves operated on the king and found a large abscess on his appendix, which when drained, contained over a pint of pus. Bertie would have died of blood poisoning had it not been removed. It was not necessary to remove his appendix. Before the operation, Bertie wrote a letter to Alice Keppel in which he said that “if he were dying, he felt sure that those about him would allow her to come to him.”42

  Bertie’s first words on coming around from the operation were: “Where’s George?” This is commonly supposed to be a reference to his son, but the inquiry could just as easily have been Bertie calling for his faithful companion, his “dear Mrs George.”

  The coronation finally took place six weeks later on August 9, 1902. Daisy, Countess of Warwick, attended the coronation in her own right, as a peeress, rolling up to Westminster Abbey in the old family coach.43 According to Lord Rosebery, Daisy was second only to Queen Alexandra for “stately grace and absolute beauty.”44 In a break from tradition, Bertie invited many of his former mistresses to the coronation.

  Alix, now queen at last, outshone them all in a “dress of golden Indian gauze, glittering in state jewels, with a sceptre in either hand, walking slowly up Westminster Abbey, her fantastically long violet-velvet train behind her, a canopy held over her head by four tall duchesses.”45

  Alix accepted the coronation ceremonies reverently and prayed throughout the ceremony; and she “prayed devoutly as the oil was placed on her brow.”46 Four tall peeresses, Daisy’s sister Millie Sutherland among them, placed the crown on Alix’s head. As soon as Alix had been crowned, there was a remarkable scene: all the peeresses, in one graceful movement, placed thei
r coronets on their own heads. “Their white arms arching over their heads,” Bertie later declared, had resembled “a scene from a beautiful ballet.”47 As she took her place alongside the newly crowned King Edward VII, did Alix cast a swift glance at her rivals in the king’s loose box? There was no need to: Alix must have known that she had won all around.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  FAMOUS LAST WORDS

  Because Kingy was such a wonderful man.

  —THE HON. GEORGE KEPPEL, HUSBAND OF ALICE

  A few days before setting off on his annual jaunt to Biarritz with Alice Keppel on March 6, 1910, Bertie quarreled with Alix, who regarded him as too ill to travel. Once at Biarritz, Bertie caught a chill and was confined to his suite at the Hôtel du Palais. Alice, increasingly concerned about Bertie’s health, wrote to the Marques de Soveral, saying, “the King’s cold is so bad that he can’t dine out, but he wants us all to dine with him at 8.15 at the Palais, SO BE THERE. I am quite worried entre nous and have sent for the nurse.”1 Alice’s use of capitals, unusual for her, indicates just how worried she must have been.

  After a week or so, Bertie’s condition improved and he was able to get out and about, but Alix was adamant that Bertie must leave “that horrid Biarritz” as soon as possible and join her on the new royal yacht, the Alexandra.2 Bertie refused, and Alix went without him to stay with her brother, King George of the Hellenes, in Corfu.

  Bertie’s refusal to return to England resulted in his longest stay in Biarritz, for seven weeks, and the longest period of continuous time that he had spent with Alice by his side. Perhaps he knew that the end was in sight. On his last day in the resort, Bertie went out onto his balcony and stood gazing across the promenade to the sea, and said: “I shall be sorry to leave Biarritz. Perhaps for good.”3